


ABO Prompt Fills

by finnandfluke



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anthology, Breeding, Bucky & Steve & domestic bliss, Bucky & Steve have a kid, Bucky pines for pre-serum steve, Collars, D/s dynamic, Different universes in same work, M/M, Old-Fashioned Steve Rogers, Omega Steve Rogers, Past Mpreg, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-War, Pregnancy, Prompt Fill, Sassy Natasha Romanov, Steve needs his mate, domestic Winter Soldier, non-heat lovin', post-sex, soft morning, tired Steve, worried Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 01:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10776675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finnandfluke/pseuds/finnandfluke
Summary: A bunch of Alpha!Steve Omega!Bucky prompts that I filled while a mod for the tumblr ohmyomegasteveandalphabucky (and any other ABO stucky drabbles I write in the future).





	1. The Soldier Rests

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: pretty please write more of the 'Omega Steve takes his pup to the SHIELD meeting' prompt? Dying to see what happens when Bucky is reunited with his omega and finds out they have a pup. That prompt & fill are so good they'd make an amazing full sized fic ((hint hint lol)) ;)
> 
> Fill posted here: http://ohmyomegasteveandalphabucky.tumblr.com/post/141909421364/pretty-please-write-more-of-the-omega-steve-takes

The Winter Soldier never remembered his omega, just soft golden hair, the scent of burnt herbs and bitter medicines, and touches that didn’t hurt. This man, who had taken him from Hydra, didn’t smell like medicine. And he did not touch the Soldier at all. He only stared at the Soldier through the glass walls of the med bay. 

But his hair looked soft, like it would tickle against the Soldier’s nose. He did not understand why he wanted this. He could barely understand the feeling of wanting.

There was a name on his tongue, and when the man entered the room it dropped from his lips like a benediction.

“Stevie…”

The man stopped walking and started to cry, and it was wrong. A man with sunlight smiles should never be crying. The Soldier rose, and no one stopped him, and there was no pain to hold him back from wanting.

In fact, there was very little pain at all, just the twinge of the arm’s circuitry and the soft ache of hunger. The barbed pain that had always sat in his ribcage, that had pulled tendons to pull triggers, was gone. 

The man looked like Stevie, though the Soldier could not remember what Stevie looked like or who he had been. But the man looked like his Stevie. The Soldier had once been something else – someone, perhaps. And that person he used to be had promised, had sworn, that the Soldier could rest when they found Stevie.

Your mate is dead, Sergeant. It’s all over the papers. He went down in a plane, crashed into the Arctic. We just thought you should know. And then they’d showed him the articles, the newspapers, the televised funeral and memorial service for Steven Grant Rogers AKA Captain America. They’d replayed it dozens of times. 

And Bucky Barnes, the man he was, had broken. His best friend was dead. His mate was gone. His mate, who had walked into hell to save his life. His mate, who he had followed back into the nightmare. His mate, who had snuggled into his arms on their last night together, golden hair tickling Bucky’s nose, and told him there was a pup. Bucky Barnes had screamed his fury until his voice was gone, but the screaming hadn’t died. Instead the scream was given a codename, a gun, and a mission.

But Bucky had promised, had sworn that he would never stop screaming unless he had Stevie. So the Soldier would have no rest until Bucky found his mate.

This man standing in front of him, crying, looked like Captain America. He was even wearing the suit. But he didn’t smell like Stevie. No, he smelled of concrete dust, jet exhaust, and strange soap.

The Soldier approached the man, and the man did not run. The soldier reached for his neck, and the man did not flinch. But the man did shiver as the Soldier ran fingers around his collar, dipping under the fabric and pulling apart the clasps. The man did whine as the Soldier’s metal hand undid zippers and snaps, pushing the dusty uniform’s jacket off of the man’s shoulders, yanking off the shirt underneath.

Only then did the Soldier look him in the eye. And god, he wanted to believe that this was Stevie, that those beautiful blue eyes were unique. But the Soldier didn’t remember Stevie’s eyes. The man was still crying, still whimpering softly, and the Soldier cupped the man’s face in his metal palm. Anyone with sense would pull away, but Stevie never had any sense in his bones. Neither did the man, who squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face towards the cool metal as the Soldier stepped closer.

With his flesh hand the Soldier traced the man’s mating bite, the scar long faded but still legible on his fair skin. He leaned forward and nuzzled the mark, seeking the scent of Stevie, of Bucky’s mate. But there was still so much dust, the industrial smell of the uniform, fragrant soaps, and he couldn’t quite catch the man’s scent under it all. The Soldier’s lips parted, tongue darting out to lick clean a stripe of the man’s skin, nuzzling again into the moistened patch.

At the touch of his tongue the man started sobbing, the name “Bucky!” exhaled like he’d been punched in the chest. He slid one hand into the Soldier’s hair as he continued to scent the man, breathing deep the warmth of his skin, the vibrant and crisp smell of sweat and worry and something unconquerable. It was a scent he’d know anywhere.

Bucky Barnes stopped screaming.

The Winter Soldier closed his eyes and slept.

When Bucky pulled back to look at Steve, tracing away tears with both thumbs, all he felt was awe. “Steve,” he whispered against his mate’s lips, with more gentleness than he’d shown in the last seventy years, “I’m right here. I’m right here, Stevie.” 

Steve surged forward and wrapped his arms around Bucky, smashing their lips together in a brutal, breathless, beautiful kiss. When his Steve’s legs gave way Bucky hoisted him into his arms, wrapping his mate’s legs around his hips and carrying him to the bed. He laid Steve out underneath him, burrowing his nose into the blond hair, hands tracing his mate’s beautiful – healthy – living – body.

And Bucky tried not to think of it, when his hands skimmed over the smooth planes of his mate’s stomach. He tried to bask in the perfection of Steve’s scent, the heavenly feel of his calloused hands, his strong legs pulling Bucky closer. He kissed at Steve’s mating mark, drawing out a moan, and wished the sound could be enough to distract his mind. But Bucky had known agony, and if there was grieving to be done it was best done now.

“Stevie…” Bucky choked out, “The pup…?” His hands were shaking against his mate’s skin, willing the impossible.

“James,” said Steve, and Bucky pulled back from his mate’s neck.

“What is it, love,” he asked softly, meeting his mate’s eyes. Steve’s face was frozen, then nearly split with a jubilant smile, laugh ringing through the small room.

“The pup, Bucky,” Steve said, voice happy and clear, “I named our pup ‘James’.”

Bucky stayed still, the fear that he was dreaming bubbling in his gut. But then Steve was pulling him into a kiss, and Bucky could taste his mate’s laughter, and he knew. 

“I’m a father?” Bucky asked, when he pulled back from the kiss long enough to catch his breath.

“Yes, Bucky. You’ve got a son.” Steve was still shaking with laughter, joy shining from his eyes.

He had things he needed to say, and questions he wanted answered, but Bucky couldn’t find the words for them. Instead he said “James is a bit of a punk, isn’t he.”

Steve grinned, pulling Bucky down so their noses brushed, whispering “oh, you have no idea”.

And then they were kissing again, souls melding back into their bond, and they didn’t pull apart for a very long time.


	2. Tethered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1) (Au or not idc. Whatever you prefer) Steve is running late for something in the morning and forgets to take his collar off and Bucky notices but doesn't say anything. So when Steve arrives everyone is poking fun at him (mainly nat) and he is blushing
> 
> Prompt filled here: http://ohmyomegasteveandalphabucky.tumblr.com/post/143279907329/au-or-not-idc-whatever-you-prefer-steve-is

The call for debriefing comes in at 4:38 am, just three hours after Steve had finally fallen asleep. Blearily he slid out of bed, being careful not to pull the covers off of Bucky. Not that he’d notice. Bucky had spent the mission cooped up in the tower because of a few broken ribs, so he had used the time to worry himself to distraction. Which meant no sleeping for 82 hours straight. Now the alpha was dead to the world after a rather passionate (if unfruitful) make-out session on their bed.

Steve stumbled out of the room, grabbing his pants off of the back of the couch and his shirt from the floor before leaning against the elevator button. Did he really need shoes for this? The debrief was only going to be the team and Phil meeting on the common room floor… And it wouldn’t even be that long…

At that moment the elevator opened, so Steve just slipped through the doors and hit the button for the top floor. There were mirrors across from him in the elevator, but damned if he was gonna care about how sleep-deprived he might look. It was Coulson’s fault for demanding a debrief this fucking early anyway. Besides, Steve was sure his team had seen him worse than this.

When the doors opened again he nearly ran into Sam.

“Hey man,” he slurred, obviously just as tired as Steve, “I was just comin’ down to get you…”

Steve just grunted and patted Sam on the shoulder as he passed by, making a beeline to the coffee pot he could see steaming on the counter. He heard Sam come up behind him so he poured a second cup.

“So…” Sam started, “You’re pretty exhausted aren’t you.”

Steve huffed out a short chuckle as Natasha sauntered towards them. “You’ve no idea,” he said as he passed over the cup. “Whose idea was this anyway?”

“Your alpha’s. He wanted this done quickly so he could have you alone for the week,” Nat said with a meaningful glance at Steve’s neck.

Steve blushed and rubbed his hand over his neck, expecting to feel the sweet tingle of half-faded hickeys and bite marks. Instead his hand brushed against thick leather and he felt all of the blood rush out of his face.

There was no way…

He’d been so careful for so long, because apparently it was frowned upon now, but…

Steve was wearing his collar.

In an instant he felt a blush viciously overtake his face. He was just about to bolt back to the elevator when Nat and Sam both started giggling.

“Aww, man, it’s not like anyone cares,” said Sam, “Just threw us for a second.”

Nat snorted “So you and Barnes really are old-school mated, huh?” She laughed as she grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter. “What a pair of grandpas.” She looked Steve up and down as she bit into the fruit and chewed thoughtfully. “It looks good on you,” she mused quietly, “You should keep it on.” Then her smile turned wicked. “I bet Bucky would just love that.”

Steve’s blush couldn’t get any worse, but as he thought he realized that it might be worse to take the collar off. Bucky had been the only one to ever touch the clasp at the back – that had been part of the deal when they’d gotten their first collar. Steve knew his mate would forgive him, wouldn’t even be mad, but he still didn’t want to break a promise to his alpha…

“It makes you feel safe, doesn’t it,” Sam said quietly. Steve looked at him for a moment before nodding. Sam took a few sips of his coffee and continued, “You’re gonna have to relive the mission in there, including the part where you were nearly shot in the head-“ Steve flinched and gripped his cup tighter “-so you might want to take all the comfort you can get.”

Sam headed in to the living area, leaving Steve to mull it over. Sam was right though – Steve had been terrified by the near-miss and was desperate for the safety of being home. After pouring his second cup he headed after his friend.

As he entered the living area he was met with a few stunned faces and Tony’s sarcastic “Lookin’ good, Mr. Barnes.” Followed by “You two are so in love it’s disgusting” from Clint, though he also seemed to be tearing up a bit.

Steve tried to hide his blush, but he was too flustered to think of a quick comeback.

Then Natasha sat heavily at the head of the table, drawing the team’s attention. “Everyone shut up, it’s cute. Now Coulson, where do you want us to begin?”

\---

Not pictured: Bucky having Jarvis play the living room feed as he lounges in bed, laughing evily at Steve’s blush.


	3. Pining in a Rut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-war pining Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Maybe Bucky's pov when he's having his first rut and imagining Steve as his partner?
> 
> Prompt filled here: http://ohmyomegasteveandalphabucky.tumblr.com/post/142214835574/hello-maybe-buckys-pov-when-hes-having-his

Bucky slid into wakefulness like water through fingers, gasping at the drag of cotton sheets over his skin. The scent of his musk filled his lungs as he stumbled to the bedroom door, sliding the bolts home. With the door locked he dropped to the floor. The bed was softer, but that wouldn’t make him any more comfortable right now, and Bucky really didn’t want to scrub out the mattress.

The heat of his rut made his bones ache, blood singing through his veins. Bucky stripped out of his pyjamas and curled onto his side in a desperate attempt to keep his skin from touching anything. The wooden boards under his side were agony, and even the brush of air across his skin hurt. All of it served to reinforce the fact that he was alone. His omega wasn’t there, laid out in his arms like he should be.

‘cept Stevie wasn’t his omega. Stevie was just his friend, who happened to be living with him, who happened to be an omega. 

But that was enough for his body. He’d been breathing Stevie’s scent for weeks, bathing in it, his hormones going wild. It didn’t matter that Steve’s scent wasn’t potent, or smelled of the medicines he took. And it certainly didn’t matter that Bucky had been holding back, consciously restricting physical contact, trying to keep his body from betraying him.

But there was no point to it now, Bucky figured. No point in denying how much he wanted Steve’s tiny body beneath him. How much his heart ached at the thought of protecting his best friend, loving him the way he deserved, worshiping every curve and hollow of his body.

It was all fantasy, though. There was no controlling an alpha in rut, no way for Bucky to know what he’d do to Steve if he actually was in the room. And Steve was so fragile, bird-boned, with lungs that didn’t work and a heart that couldn’t keep time. Bucky couldn’t trust himself like this, when he could barely keep himself from tearing apart his clothes, ripping bedsheets and pillows in half.

But he could allow himself his fantasies, at least. Not like they’d make any difference now.

So Bucky imagined running his hand through blond hair as Stevie sucked him down, head bobbing on Bucky’s cock. Fuck, he wanted to know how warm Steve’s mouth would be on his cock, whether the little omega could swallow him all the way to the hilt, or if he’d use his beautiful hands to reach what he couldn’t choke down. 

Bucky carefully laid one hand on his erection, whimpering at the touch to the sensitive flesh. He wrapped his fingers around the base and gave it an experimental tug, keening at the slide of foreskin over the delicate head. Bucky kept stroking himself as he rolled onto his back, bracing his feet against the floor.

His other hand came up to curl around his swelling knot, gripping as tight as he could without causing pain.

God, he wanted Stevie to ride him, sit his sweet pale body on Bucky’s cock and set the pace. Bucky wanted his cock covered in his omega’s slick, wanted to watch drops of sweat roll over Steve’s chest as his own cock bounced against his belly. He needed to hear his name on Steve’s lips as the omega came around him, feel the flutter of his hole.

Bucky’s hand sped up, his cock leaking pre like a goddamned faucet. He wanted to fuck Steve, hold his hips as he thrust up into his tight hole, relentless in his need to breed his mate. The sobs of his omega, stretched so prettily on his knot, coming over and over as Bucky finally slid home, his knot keeping them bound as Steve collapsed onto his alpha’s chest. 

There was a moment when he closed his eyes and Bucky could almost convince himself that Steve was there. His gentle omega scent drifted in from under the door, causing Bucky’s adrenalin to spike.

He needed to mark his mate, to paint his delicate neck with bruises, claiming the blond. Bucky’s teeth ached in his jaw, the urge to bite overwhelming his other senses. He grabbed his nightshirt and shoved it in his mouth, biting down viciously.

Bucky felt the first waves of his orgasm hit, washing through his body as he let out a feral growl. He kept a hand around his knot, fingers pulsing gently, imagining that it might as well be Steve’s sweet hole that pressed around him. His other hand kept moving, wringing out as much pleasure as he could while thick spurts of come shot over his stomach and chest. 

He laid there on the floor for a few minutes, lazily tracing patterns in the come on his stomach. Bucky could already feel his body revving again in response to another whiff of Steve’s scent.

While he still had the motor control Bucky flipped himself over and crawled to the bed, dragging himself up to lay on his stomach (laundry be damned) with his knees on the floor. If he tried hard enough, maybe he could imagine it was Stevie under him instead of a mattress.

He was lucky that Steve would be at church all day. Bucky hated to think how long this rut would last if the omega’s scent was fresh.


	4. Breeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What it says on the tin, except... fucking domestic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about after the birth of Steve and Bucky's first child, Steve suddenly has the overwhelming urge to be bred again. He misses the belly he had while he carried their pup, so he begs to be bred again.
> 
> Prompt filled here: http://ohmyomegasteveandalphabucky.tumblr.com/post/143132852864/how-about-after-the-birth-of-steve-and-buckys

Steve should have been fine with it all, honestly. He’d lived thirty-odd years without carrying a pup, and he’d been just fine, and there was absolutely no reason why he couldn’t be fine with it now. 

But now he knew just what it felt like to be pregnant with a child, to feel the life growing inside of him. And maybe it was an old-fashioned and ill-favoured concept, but he loved that he could carry Bucky’s pup. Steve loved that he could provide his alpha with a child, a lineage. It was one of those instinctual things that Steve felt in his bones, this need to give his mate a family.

Steve would be the first in a crowd to argue in favour of omega rights, yelling about how omegas didn’t exist for the breeding pleasure of alphas. But that didn’t change the fact that Steve wanted to be bred, to be filled by his alpha’s seed again, feel their pup growing. It felt like a gift, something he could give to Bucky that would keep bringing them joy for years.

(And a fair bit of stress as well, he admitted. Bea was a lovely little girl but she rarely let them sleep through the night. And of course she could out-stubborn Steve, because that’s just the way karma works, his mate said.)

Thoughts of being pregnant again had been hounding Steve all day, refusing to let him relax. He was twitchy, tense, and he really didn’t want to face all of the rational reasons about why they should wait to have another child. So when Bucky had gone to put Bea to bed, singing soft lullabies to their baby, Steve had taken the opportunity to head to the bedroom. If he didn’t then Bucky might decide to ask him about how strangely he’d been acting over dinner.

He was nestled into the covers and just beginning to drift when the bedroom door opened.

He heard Bucky walk towards the bed and pause before saying, “Steven Grant Rogers, I know you don’t fall asleep that fast.”

Steve supressed a snort before mumbling, “James Buchannan Barnes, shut the fuck up.”  
The edge of the bed sank down, and suddenly Bucky was crawling under the covers and wrapping his arms around Steve. “I’d say ‘make me’” Bucky drawled out while mouthing at Steve’s shoulder, “except I’ve got the feelin’ you’d like the distraction. So spill it, Stevie. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s stupid,” Steve mumbled into the pillow. He fell silent for a few minutes as Bucky continued to kiss along his neck, the shell of his ear, under his jaw. “Bucky, I- I just…”  
Bucky leant back, pulling Steve with him so they could see eye-to-eye. “End of the line, Stevie. I’m with you through anythin’”

Steve still had trouble looking Bucky in the eye, but somehow he managed to say, “I miss being pregnant.”

Bucky’s eyes grew soft, impossibly gentle, and he smiled down at Steve while ducking down to rub their noses together. “Is that all, sweetheart? God, you had me worried, I thought it might be something serious.”

“Buck! I am being serious.” Steve wished that his voice had been a bit sharper, but Bucky had started rubbing at one of his nipples and- oh, fuck…

“I know you are, Stevie. But you see,” Bucky continued, flicking his thumb over the nub, “this problem has an incredibly easy answer.”

“Y-yeah, but… what about Bea?”

“She’s fast asleep.”

“I’m nowhere near my next heat.”

“So? We’ll call this practice. Make sure we know what we’re doin’ before the big day. Make sure I know just how to fill you up with cum, how to stuff you so full of me that you can’t feel anything else. It’d be embarrassing if I just showed up and didn’t even know the moves.”

Steve rolled his eyes as Bucky’s hand skimmed lower, tracing the nearly-faded stretchmarks that Bea had left in his skin. Fingers dipped lower and prodded at his hole, and Steve let out a needy whine. His arms reached up to wrap around his alpha’s neck, burying his head in Bucky’s shoulder.

“Please, alpha,” he sobbed, his legs falling open and hips canting up as Bucky slid two fingers home. Steve could hear the wet sounds of his slick as his mate thrust the fingers into his body, deftly finding the most sensitive spots. Damned snipers and their perfect fucking aim. “Please, alpha- ha-… oh! Please breed me…” 

Bucky growled and grabbed Steve’s waist, flinging him onto his stomach. Steve felt his alpha’s cock grinding into the cleft of his ass, sliding easily through the slick. A flesh hand grabbed at Steve’s waist, hauling him onto his knees, as a metal hand snaked under his torso to grip his throat. He moaned at the feeling of the chill metal gently stroking over his neck and went completely limp.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Bucky crooned in his ear, “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna fill you up with another baby. That what you want, hmm? Is that what my sweet omega wants?”

Steve wished he could nod but all he could manage was a trembling shiver. His alpha just chuckled, lining up his cock and thrusting in with a single, torturously slow roll of his hips. Steve tried to shove himself back, tried desperately to offer something to the movement, but Bucky’s flesh hand skimmed down to press into his lower belly.

“Hush my mate, hush,” whispered the alpha, lips brushing against the back of Steve’s neck and metal fingers tightening ever so slightly, “Just relax, my love, and let me take care of you for once.”

Steve felt the peacefulness wash over him, felt his mind quiet as his alpha started to fuck him properly. He’d never have the courage to admit it, but he loved giving in to his instincts, loved letting his body be used for his alpha’s pleasure. Steve reached back and laid his hand over Bucky’s, twining their fingers together and pressing their hands tighter to his belly. 

“Bucky, please- oh… fuck, please give me a baby.” Steve’s back arched as his mate shifted the angle of his thrusts, speeding up as the omega whined, “…unngh! Oh, please-… alpha! Alpha, please, fill me up again, I- hah!” His breath hitched as Bucky bit down on his shoulder, sucking a bruise over the mating mark. The room was too bright, the sound of skin against skin was too loud, the pressure of his mate’s body against his back was too strong, and then Steve was coming hard all over the sheets beneath them.

Bucky thrust shallowly, his knot growing as he came with Steve. His tongue darted out to taste the omega’s skin and Steve writhed under the touch, body shifting around Bucky’s knot and pulling a ragged moan from the alpha. Fuck if Steve wasn’t the prettiest damned thing in the universe, especially when he got like this. Bucky rubbed his fingers on the skin stretched between his mate’s hips. He could almost feel the omega’s womb getting heavier, filling with his seed.

Steve had begged for another baby, but the blond was right – they wouldn’t be able to conceive until his next heat began. Still…

“Heh, so waddaya think sweetheart,” Bucky growled, “That enough practice, or should we go again, hm?”

Steve’s answering moan was deliciously wanton, and Bucky smiled against his omega’s skin. From below him he heard Steve speak, but the words were muffled by the pillow.

“Wha’ was that, sweetheart?”

Steve shifted against the pillows, sleepily kissing the palm of Bucky’s metal hand and mumbling, “Nhh… maybe we should run through tha’ again.”

Bucky would later deny that he broke down in a fit of giggles.


	5. Comfortable Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’ve released Steve from the hospital.  
> He gets home and goes to bed and wakes up to the Winter Soldier taking care of him…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh first of all, I love the works you guys are doing<3 second of all, I had a bad week with my parents so can you please write anything with angst and hurt/comfort stucky fic? it'd be more awesome if it's post catws with alpha!bucky and omega!steve reuniting :D thank you!!
> 
> Prompt filled here: http://ohmyomegasteveandalphabucky.tumblr.com/post/142298223939/ahh-first-of-all-i-love-the-works-you-guys-are

In 1944 Steve had watched Bucky fall from a train, screaming as he plummeted towards the snow-covered mountain forests. Nearly two weeks ago Steve had watched Bucky leap from a gutted helicarrier into the Potomac, arms of flesh and metal reaching to save his drowning mate.

Not that Bucky had known, really. Steve bit his tongue to keep from whimpering at the memory of the winter soldier’s blank expression. Hydra had torn apart Bucky’s memories so thoroughly that he didn’t even know the sight of his own mate. Steve felt broken, hollow at the thought that his alpha had forgotten him. It wasn’t Bucky’s fault, but that didn’t keep Steve from aching anyway.

His alpha had forgotten him. Bucky had forgotten the first time they had made love, back when Stevie was still all angles and bird-bones. He didn’t remember how gentle he was as an alpha, how he had taken such good care of Steve whenever the omega was ill. His mate didn’t remember the moment that Steve had wrapped his limbs around the alpha and begged him to bite, to claim, to bond their very souls together. 

He could still feel the ache of his bond mark on his neck, the imprint of his mate’s fingers still embedded in his skin over the mark. The gunshot wounds were mostly healed, but even with the serum he’d be a walking bruise for a while.

Steve supposed it didn’t help matters when he laid his own hand over the marks, squeezing the tender flesh as he thought of Bucky, powerful and violent and beautiful as he held Steve down with only one hand. The blond was more than a little ashamed at how quickly he could get off to those memories.

Honestly, he’d rather be asleep right now. At least in his dreams there was still Bucky, inches away from him, the two throwing their bodies together in a brutal dance. Steve hardly cared about the gun pointed at him, the knives at his skin. He’d endure their memory for the chance to see Bucky again.

Steve rolled over again, tossing fitfully in the early morning light, trying desperately to pinpoint what had woken him. There was an odd sound from out in his kitchen, and an alluring mixture of scents wafting into the bedroom.

Someone was frying bacon.

Someone was in Steve’s house and cooking breakfast. Which was alarming, considering he lived alone and no one had followed him home from the hospital last night.

Nat and Sam had offered to stay, of course, but Steve had been very clear about needing space. And neither of them would have pushed him on this, not so soon at least. Clint might, but Clint would never be able to get into the apartment without waking up Steve, and Tony would never have been this subtle. Thor was still off-world, and Banner would have at least knocked at the front door.

Steve grabbed the shield resting by his bed and crept out of his bedroom and down the hall, praying the smell of eggs, pancakes, and bacon didn’t make his stomach growl. He wasn’t sure if ‘cooking breakfast’ was some kind of intimidation tactic, but Steve wasn’t about to be caught unawares. After all, the last time someone had broken into his apartment he was almost shot by-

By the winter soldier…

By his mate…

By Bucky.

By the man who… was currently frying bacon on his stove.

Steve let out an inelegant squeak, half shock and half indignation, and Bucky turned to look at him. His gaze was pointed, appraising as it ran over Steve’s body. Steve suddenly wished he’d taken the time to put on more than pyjama pants, if only to have kept the look of pain from Bucky’s face as his alpha took in the bruises and bandages. 

Bucky gestured vaguely at the kitchen table as he turned back to the stove. There was already a pot of coffee on the table next to a huge stack of pancakes and a large bowl of scrambled eggs. 

For a lack of any other sensible course of action, Steve sat down at the table, resting the shield at his feet. Bucky was poking absently at the bacon while he clutched a coffee cup in his metal hand. 

“Bucky-“ Steve heard himself choke out. The alpha turned and set his gaze on Steve again. He left the bacon alone for a moment, walking cautiously over to the table. Bucky’s flesh hand came up to rest against Steve’s cheek, thumb wiping away tears he hadn’t known he was crying. His alpha leaned down, pressing their cheeks together, breathing Steve’s scent deep into his lungs. Steve could feel himself start to sob at the contact. 

God, he’d needed Bucky. These last years without his mate – his best friend – had been hell. And somehow, after all the shit with SHIELD and Hydra, Bucky was back with him. Somehow, Steve thought, the world might be able to carry on.

He tried to choke out a few more words, but Bucky shushed him.

“There’ll be time for talking later, Stevie,” Bucky rasped, his voice deep and comforting to Steve even if it was rough from disuse. “For now you need food, and I need more coffee.”

Bucky moved back to the stove and plated the bacon, carrying it back to Steve at the table. He loaded Steve’s plate and watched intently as he started to eat. Content that his omega had a healthy appetite, Bucky grabbed the coffee pot and poured himself another cup.

“How many of those have you had,” Steve asked, gesturing to the coffee cup.

A small, sly smile grew on Bucky’s face. “Not enough yet,” he whispered into the mug, “to deal with a punk like you.”

Steve snorted, but couldn’t keep the grin from blooming on his face.

Yeah, they were gonna be alright.


End file.
